


A Challenger Approaches

by ialpiriel



Series: The Doofus Noodle Gets Up To Shit [11]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Banter, F/F, Ghouls, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5440616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ialpiriel/pseuds/ialpiriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>six gets big for her britches, lucy wrestles her to take her ego down a notch. it gets really gay, really fast</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Challenger Approaches

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on the [fallout kink meme](http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6099.html?thread=16533203#t16533203)
> 
> warnings: discussion of the real horror of cazador stingers, a needle gets used in one sentence (non-graphic)

Six starts it, pushes Lucy’s shoulder with a laugh and a dangerous glint in her eye, offers a challenge the way every wasteland creature does; bulls herself bigger, wider, stronger; laughs too loud in the enclosed space; returns Lucy’s stare with the easy confidence that took her sledgehammer through three mantises, three geckos, three radscorpions, three cazadores--though she’d wheezed at them, dragged the stinger of one out of her shoulder with a high whine and held it up, dug the needle of the antivenom into her thigh as the crowd had cheered--the confidence that took her through three deathclaws too. Lucy took the challenge as an invitation, invited her up again, once the deathclaws had been dragged away, the sand turned, the bets paid and distributed.

Six sheds her hammer and her coat at the door, cocks her head as Lucy turns to stand next to the bed, sheds her duster in one long, smooth movement.

“Your ego swells as your successes in the Thorn grow,” Lucy says, watches the way Six watches her--chin up, throat exposed, eyes half-closed and something like relaxed, but her shoulders still squared, her knees bent, too-thin thighs coiled and ready to move. “Watch yourself, my hunter. As a deathclaw may die by the swing of a hammer, so you may die by a single claw.”

“I know that,” Six replies.

“Do you?” Lucy asks. She steps back toward Six, doesn't puff herself up the way Six does, but the challenge is clear. Six doesn’t move, just watches. Watches the same way the third deathclaw had watched her, waiting for Lucy to overplay her hand.

Lucy feints to Six’s left, slams her arm hard into Six’s right side as Six tries to block on her left. She throws her weight into Six--chin to Six’s chest, stomach to Six’s hip, thighs on either side of Six’s--and they topple to the floor, Lucy landing hard on top of Six.

Six rolls into her, shoves her off, laughs as she goes. Scrambles back as Lucy does the same.

Lucy throws herself at Six again before Six can get all the way to her feet, wraps her arms around Six’s knees and drags her back down. Her jaw clacks hard as she hits the floor again, as Six falls on top of her with a yelp.

She kicks at Six, shuffles from underneath her, jabs one elbow in Six’s kidneys, incapacitates her long enough to climb on top of her, settle her weight. Six curves her spine, tries to roll away, and Lucy jams her hand down into Six’s shoulder, unbalances her.

She wedges her knee into Six’s back, twists one of Six’s arms too, pins her in place. Six’s other arm scrabbles across the floor; she tries to lever herself back up, but stops when Lucy pins her elbow too. Lucy leans down.

“Do you yield, my hunter?” she breathes.

“Shit, nah,” Six replies, bucks up and flips Lucy, twists fast to pin her arms above her head. Six isn’t fast enough, though, gets kneed in the hip, shoved aside. Lucy kneels across her chest, settles her weight just above Six’s breasts, pins Six’s hands above her head. Six arches her back, tries to buck, sucks a deep breath, but Lucy settles heavier.

“Do you yield?” she repeats.

“Yeah,” Six agrees, looks up at Lucy with the same big soft eyes the brahmin back home had, “Yeah, I’ll yield.”

“You are wise to know your limits.” Lucy leans over, watches Six’s face. Underneath her, Six moves some. Bends her knees up, and Lucy tenses, waits for Six to try to throw her off--but Six just adjusts the way she’s stretched on the floor, sets one heel against her butt and stretches her other leg out long and easy. Makes no move to escape.

Lucy lifts one knee, takes a half-step down Six’s body, waits to see if she’ll use it to gain the upper hand again. Six still doesn't move.

“I said I’d yield, “ Six murmurs, presses her knuckles and elbows into the floor, lets her wrists bend up in Lucy’s grip. “I’m not going anywhere until you let me up.”

“If that’s so…” Lucy trails off, scoots further down Six’s body, until she kneels across Six’s hips--too narrow, too thin, too underfed--and their faces are even. She tilts her head to one side, considers. Six turns her head to present her good side, waggles her eyebrows and grins, wide and toothy. Lucy presses a careful kiss to her cheek, just to the side of her nose, another one to the corner of her mouth. Six turns her head back, then, presses her mouth up into Lucy’s. Lucy allows it, settles her weight to one side. Lets Six’s wrist go, rests her hand in her armpit instead.

Six reeks like heavy-metal blood and smoky leather and damp rot, the radiation burns clawing their way up her face and down her arms and legs offering no respite even in this chamber. She reeks of the wasteland’s ultimate gift, for those who survive it.

Six twists her fingers into Lucy’s hair, doesn’t pull, doesn’t direct, merely holds. Lucy returns the action, cusps her hand around the back of Six’s head, but she tugs Six up into another kiss. 

Six stays soft beneath Lucy, luxuriates in the attention.

“Had you not proved yourself to the Thorn, this is where we would end things,” Lucy murmurs, tips her head, bends so she can catch her teeth on the lobe of Six’s ear, run her lips down Six’s neck, pulls her shirt aside and kiss the hollow of her throat. “But you have proved yourself many times, spilled blood for the Thorn’s excitement.” She presses one hand into Six’s stomach, and Six shivers underneath her, drops her hand from Lucy's hair to hold her wrist. “You have proved yourself many times, and many would say your ego is well-earned.” Six’s hand tightens on Lucy’s wrist; she pulls her head back so her eyes aren't quite so crossed trying to look at Lucy. “But ego has killed many before you.”

“I trust my hand, not my history,” Six replies, gives a lazy grin. “Got my ass handed to me enough, ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

Lucy lightens the press of her hand, and Six lets go of her wrist, cups Lucy’s cheek.

“I c’n eat you out, if you want,” she offers. “You c’n sit on my face or we can move to the bed ‘n arrange, if you don’t wanna worry about--” Six drops her hand from Lucy’s face, pats her bad side with her knuckles. She drops her hand onto her chest. “If you're interested,” she repeats.

Red Lucy looks down at her, sizes her up. Six watches with big eyes, tracks her gaze as Lucy studies her face, each hand in turn, her throat, her chest.

Lucy hooks one finger in the collar of Six’s shirt, drags it low.

“Disrobe,” she says, and stands.


End file.
